He was my first kiss and Yansi was his name. I was 7, he was 9 ... and he was my first kiss.
We lived in an apartment style place and if I remember it correctly, he lived in the bigger apartment and my Mom and I were situated in Apartment E. We would go visit each other through the connecting roof and play. Whenever there was a holiday, be it Valentines, Christmas, New Year and even Three Kings, he would send me a card.
I was not happy because I was only 7 and at that age, boys were like cooties. He would send me cards and my older sister would proceed to cut it into pieces. Even though I was young, I felt that what she did to the cards was wrong but could not stop my 9 year old sister for fear that she might tease me mercilessly.
One time, I was invited to his birthday party. He was turning 9. Yes, he was an older man. My poor heart didn't stand a chance. We went to their house and handed him my gift when the nannies started saying "K, give Yansi a kiss on the lips." Being a child, I didn't know any better and so I did. I kissed him ... right.smack.on.the.lips.
He was surprised. I was oblivious, or maybe not so much as I still remember every details of it 23 years later. Hmmm ...
Anyway, they eventually moved out and left me feeling sad. What I didn't know then though was that he and his Dad came over while I was in school to negotiate a contract with my Mom. They wanted us to be married at 18 (one of those arranged marriages.) My Mom flat out refused.
I do wonder from time to time what would have happened if they signed the contract? Would I be married now to my first kiss or would I have killed him already out of sheer spite for being "trapped?" I don't know. I will never know. Still, it couldn't possibly hurt to find him on Facebook. Unfortunately, I am still saying ...
"O Yansi, Yansi, wherefore art thou Yansi?"